


TW Tumblr Drabbles

by ravingrevolution



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, One Shot, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravingrevolution/pseuds/ravingrevolution
Summary: A collection of drabbles from my Tumblr





	1. Stiles Finds a VHS Tape

Stiles is eight when he finds the old VHS tape hidden behind a pile of even older home videos and bootlegged Disney movies that have 90s-tastic commercials interspersed periodically throughout.

His mom has been dead for just a few months and he and his dad aren’t on the best terms, which is part of what prompts his excavation of the cabinet under the tv. Stiles had been intending to set a few of them on fire in the hole he and Scott had dug in the backyard, but then he sees the title of this one and has to stop.

“Mortal Kombat?” he asks, but he’s home alone, of course, so there’s no answer.

The cover has a wicked-looking golden snake or dragon or something on it, and Stiles knows in his gut that it’s the kind of thing his dad would tell him he was too young for, if Stiles had asked him for permission to watch it.

So he doesn’t even bother calling the station to see if he can get permission.

Stiles sits close in front of the tv, eyes wide as the first scene shows one man crushing the spine of another.

“Woah,” he whispers, startling back before leaning in once more.

His dad definitely wouldn’t let him watch this if he’d asked.

There’s a lot of boring talking and things that don’t make sense until he startles for another reason.

“Dad?” he asks, incredulous as his familiar, if younger-looking, man steps into view and precedes to beat up four other men.

Stiles jumps to his feet and immediately begins imitating his dad’s wicked moves. He has to rewind the scene and replay it four times before he thinks he’s got it. It takes him hours to watch the movie that way, always replaying his dad’s best fight scenes and mimicking the dialog from the other parts.

By the time his dad gets home that night, Stiles is sweaty and smiling and the living room is a disaster.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” his dad asks from the doorway. He’s wearing his deputy uniform and looks like he might almost be too tired to be angry about the mess, but Stiles is still too amped to be worried about his dad’s mood or the consequences of wrecking the place.

“Dad, dad, I have like, a million questions for you,” Stiles says breathlessly. Behind him the credits are rolling, the faint sound of industrial rock music filling the room. He doesn’t even wait for his dad to reply before he’s already asking. 

“Okay, so, was the luggage super heavy when you had to drag it all the way up that mountain? Were you afraid that freaky hand thing was going to eat your face when you were fighting the guy in the trees? Was it like, super hot behind that metal shield when that guy skull-faced-dude threw up fire at you?”

“Stiles, what are you talking about?” his dad asks faintly.

Stiles looks up at him with a smirk.

“Is it okay if I call you Johnny Cage, instead of dad?”

“Oh, hell.”


	2. A Very Groot Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles isn't thrilled that he has to go visit his ultra-conservative great uncle for Thanksgiving, but when he walks into the kitchen and sees a very attractive stranger, he just might change his tune.

“Dad, no, I told you I’d rather spend Thanksgiving literally anywhere other than visiting great uncle Laverne and his racist den of homophobes. I almost had to climb out a window last year to escape his gross friends’ misogynistic commentary, and remember how the turkey was so dry it actually crumbled when I tried to pick it up with my fork. Who even does that? But seriously, this is me taking a stand. I’m an adult and I don’t want to spend my time with people like uncle Verne and his friends.”

Stiles’ dad rolled his eyes, but didn’t attempt to defend his relative or the inedible food they’d been beholden to eat for the past six Thanksgivings.

“I have it on good authority that Laverne’s changed his tune a bit on the socio-political stuff, but I can’t speak for the turkey.”

Stiles didn’t believe it for a second.

“You mean to tell me that the same seventy-something-year-old man who proudly flew a confederate flag in California, despite originally being from Poland and never having lived in the South, is no longer going to harass me about dating women and continuing the Stilinski-family line?”

His dad looked up from where he was shoving the last of his most comfortable off-duty clothes into a worn leather duffle.

“He knows you’re bisexual, Stiles, so I can’t speak for what he’ll say about your love life, but I do know the emails he’s been sending are far less ultra-conservative than they have been in the past. He even mentioned inviting a friend from work to join us at dinner. Not the retirees he hangs out with, either.”

“If it’s another old codger with an All Lives Matter agenda I’m walking to the nearest hotel and ordering takeout,” Stiles threatened.

His dad chuckled, but didn’t protest the same threat Stiles had been making for years.

\----------

The house looked better than the last time Stiles had been there during his obligatory once a year visit. The paint wasn’t peeling, anymore, and it looked like someone had bothered to see to the landscaping. The cement slab of a driveway still buckled a bit, but the maple tree beside it had been trimmed enough that it didn’t threaten to scrape the roof of the Jeep.

“Uncle Verne come into some money or something?” Stiles asked as he killed the ignition.

“Or something,” his dad replied cryptically. “Come on, leave the bags and see if you can be put to use in the kitchen. Maybe you can help save the turkey this year.”

“Yes sir, Sheriff, sir,” Stiles snarked, but did as his father bid, hopping out of the Jeep and walking up to the side door to let himself in.

“Uncle Laverne, it’s Stiles and, hello you’re not related to me,” Stiles said, nearly stumbling over his feet as he rocked to a stop just inside the kitchen where a devastatingly attractive man was standing in front of the stove simultaneously tending to three different pots while wearing an incongruously lace-lined apron over his tight-fitting maroon henley.

“Derek, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Stiles’ dad said, moving Stiles aside so he could shake stranger-Derek’s hand.

“Sheriff Stilinski, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, and you must be Stiles,” Derek said.

Between the man’s obvious muscles, his not-quite-a-beard stubble, and his gorgeous hazel eyes, he was almost a hundred percent Stiles’ type.

Though no one had yet explained what he was doing in great uncle Laverne’s kitchen.

“Hi, yeah, I’m Stiles, and apparently you’re Derek,” Stiles said, mentally berating himself for not interrogating his father further about the identity of uncle Laverne’s work friend. Stiles had automatically pictured another old guy, not this adonis look-alike.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. Stiles, make sure you help Derek out with the cooking. I’ll go see what Laverne’s up to.”

Stiles ignored the  _ very significant look  _ his father gave him as he continued into the house.

“So, hi, yes. I’m Stiles, but you apparently already knew that. You work with my great uncle Laverne?”

Derek smiled down at the pot of boiling potatoes and nodded while Stiles moved around him to wash his hands.

“Yeah, I work with Verne at the station. He coordinates the calls that come in.”

Stiles abruptly remembered that his great uncle was a retired fireman and tried not to picture Derek sliding down the station pole, but once the image entered his mind he was entirely unable not to imagine that and all kinds of things the muscular man could probably do.

“I, um, that’s, that’s a great job. You should, uh, you should be proud of yourself, doing that kind of work. The firefighter thing. That’s. Yeah.”

“When I heard Laverne was hosting for Thanksgiving I kind of invited myself over,” Derek confessed with an attractive blush Stiles very much wanted to taste. “I’ve eaten his cooking and, well, let’s just say I wanted to try to help prevent you and your dad from getting food poisoning. He talks about you two all the time and has been looking forward to your visit for months.”

Stiles felt abruptly guilty for having wanted to bail on the dinner. Though to be fair he’d gotten more than his fair share of lectures on his various moral failings from ol’ Laverne over the years. But from the looks Stiles was receiving from Derek, he shared at least some of Stiles’ own views on sexuality. So maybe it was true that his uncle had stopped being such a conservative blowhard.

“How on earth did you and Laverne get to know each other?” Stiles asked as Derek moved around him with the pot of potatoes and drained it in the sink.

“He helps me look after Groot when I have overnight shifts or when I’m on call,” Derek said.

“Excu-  _ Groot _ ?” Stiles asked as Derek set the pot back on the stove and handed Stiles the potato masher.

“Groot’s my dog. He’s deaf, or I’d call him in here to greet you,” Derek said as he opened the fridge. “I found him on the side of the road after a call late one night. He was soaking wet in a ditch and it took three baths before I figured out he was a dalmatian mix. I knew Verne used to have dogs, so I called and asked if he could help out and we’ve hanging out ever since. Groot adores him, and it seems to cheer Verne up as well, to have something to look after.”

Stiles felt his heart melt a bit, but still had a hard time reconciling his curmudgeonly old uncle with the image Derek was painting.

“My family lives in New York, so I try to get out there whenever I can, but holidays can be tough,” Derek continued as he hip-checked Stiles to the side so he could open the oven and look inside. 

Mouth-watering smells gusted out with a wave of heat that was only partially from the cooking.

“So you started hanging out with Laverne and your dog and,” Stiles prompted as Derek closed the oven and leaned against the counter beside him.

“And we’ve had a lot of good conversations about things. You know, sometimes people have views just because they don’t know any differently, but it sounds like you’ve done a good job educating Verne about social issues.”

Of all the things Stiles had expected to hear, that hadn’t been one of them.

“But I kinda thought he hated that I’m bisexual.”

Derek shook his head and reached over Stiles’ head to grab a ceramic bowl for the mashed potatoes.

“No, he just has a hard time showing that he cares about people, from what I’ve gathered,” Derek said. “He talks about you and your dad all the time. He specifically requested that I get the night off so I could be here to meet you.”

“To meet me and my dad?”

Derek smiled as he set the bowl off to the side and leaned into Stiles’ space.

“To meet you in particular.”

Stiles blushed and closed the distance between them.

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr](https://www.ravingrevolution.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please don't post this or any of my stories on sites like Goodreads


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